Growing the clan

The job is quite simple, but it’s getting the job that’s the real trick, as it usually is. I didn’t expect the call, honest. But when I did I was on cloud nine. The request was simple, “Tom, will you walk me down the aisle at my wedding?”

Speechless. I’m sure I gulped. A father would expect to walk his daughter down the aisle, and I have always referred to Brandi as my daughter. In fact, Brandi is Pamela’s daughter, but I have always tried to avoid the term “step” whenever talking about my family. My standard practice is to treat each and every child as if I forgot which was birthed by whom. I like to think that the fact that Brandi asked me to do the “Dad Walk” makes me feel like I’ve done something right.

Pamela knew I was walking on air when I hung up. But then an awful thought struck me: Brandi weighs maybe 100 pounds soaking weight and with about $3.57 in small change in her pockets. I weigh… considerably more. I confided my fears to Pamela that unless I lose weight Brandi will look like a handkerchief that slipped from my pocket while walking down the aisle.

Well, long story short I didn’t lose weight and didn’t have to worry. If anyone saw me walking with her it was quite by accident because her beauty commanded all eyes in the joint. Go ahead, look up beautiful bride in the dictionary. Here’s the picture that goes with it.

I know there was a lot of planning that goes into a wedding. That’s the good part about being the Dad. We know there’s a lot of work, but we don’t have to do it. We just walk – oh, and get fitted for the tux. Yeah, that was an experience. They measure you. Suddenly you’re your Dad’s size. Every time she’d run the tape around some part of my anatonmy and call out the number I’d look incredulous – “Noooo!” Well, she was right. The tux fit better than most clothes in my closet, meaning that I’d better go dig out that gym membership coupon that I tossed in the junk mail pile.

The family converged in Austin from all points in the SouthEastern U.S. to take part in this fantastic party. We commandeered a hapless hotel and made our reunions and new unions there. The two families became one even before the ceremony.

Allow me to pause for a minute to mention a rarely discussed aspect of weddings – the groom. The groom is a complete afterthought and something necessary to the ceremony but entirely incidental. And I speak from years of experience. Well, let me be the first to trumpet the contributions of the groom. Without him there would be less jewelry, period. Without a groom there would be one less cake. An absent groom means watching Food Network rather than attending a rehearsal dinner. If there was no groom there would be no reason for the bacchanalian excess of a bachelor party – oh wait, never mind. We don’t need no stinkin’ groom to do that.

But I would be sorely amiss if I didn’t at least mention Bryan. Every Dad knows there is no man good enough for his little girl. Well, Bryan just made it. Yeah, he’s that good. Getting a Dad to say something good about his son-in-law, however grudgingly, is a herculean feat. I do it without reserve. We’re not talking Eddie Haskel respect here, Bryan is truly genuine. He’s serious, funny, loyal and loves Brandi. But what put him over the top in my book was his unwavering support of the Atlanta Braves. ‘Nuff said. Go Bryan!

The ceremony was beautiful. There’s little more that I can say about that. I couldn’t tell you what the flowers were or the style of her dress or even the color of the bridesmaids dresses. It was just perfect, ok? The minister was a family friend; bridesmaids were high-school chums; groomsmen were doctors-to-be.

Sister Krissy was maid of honor rivaling the bride’s beauty. Brother Jon-Michael offered a reading during the ceremony that made me squeeze Pamela’s hand harder and harder and struggle to stifle that tear in the corner of my eye. And baby bro’ Graham reprised his role of ring-bearer. A three-time veteran he’s now considering forming an agency to broker matrimonial jewelry handlers. It’s a niche service, and I think he’d be good at it.

The couple must be complimented on their menu choices for the evening’s feast. The food and service were superb, and the thankfully few after-dinner toasts were the perfect capper to the delightful repast. Bryan forgot his notes, and think everyone was glad he did, because his off-the-cuff remarks we quite enjoyable. But his best man, Justin, topped them all with his brief but emotional huzzah for his little bro’. We all know how he felt, and it was good.

The banquet segued perfectly into an outdoor soiree filled with more imbibing and enough dancing to fill anyone’s cardio requirements for the week. The couple’s first turn on the floor was as impressive as I’ve witnessed, a certainly unexpected bit of entertainment. Even Brandi and I managed a somewhat acceptable 8th-grade shuffle for the daddy-daughter dance. But, alas, it was the youngest Coleman who commanded the spotlight for the evening. I appeal to all within eyeshot of this blog to come forward if you have video of young Graham’s gyrations that night. I am convinced that the boy posseses a dormant gene that renders him unable to resist a beckoning rhythm. I know that if I would be foolish enough to attempt some of those moves that my chiropractor would be contemplating his next boat purchase.

One of the best parts of the entire thing, aside from getting a new son-in-law, was that for the first time in a long time the entire Coleman-Graves family was together. This all-points convergence made my heart soar to see Atlanta, Oklahoma, South Texas and Florida united once more. From in-laws to grandchild, all were present and reacquainted. I got some, but not nearly enough time with my grandson, Alex, who, of course, is the most handsome child ever conceived in the history of the world, your humble author included.

The clan is growing. And that’s how it should be. This old blood plans to be around for a long time still, but the new blood is certainly exciting.

The family has witnessed three weddings in three years. That’s a lot of new blood. And I say huzzah for new blood, but I’m all for giving it a rest for a little bit, right Theo and Krissy?